


a certain kind of eden

by bargainbinkalluto



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe, Horror, Inspired by The Haunting of Hill House
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:40:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22133428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bargainbinkalluto/pseuds/bargainbinkalluto
Summary: The accolades for Milluki’s new game The Haunting of Wail House, based on his childhood summer living in a haunted house, has placed the spotlight on the remaining Zoldyck children again. It’s not that Killua begrudged Milluki his success, turning their shared childhood trauma into a profitable venture. Hell, he wished he had the skill to pull it off. But now people are whispering about its origin -- and the truth is coming out. Hasn't the house taken enough from all of them?Silva and Kikyo Zoldyck, and their children -- Illumi, Milluki, Killua, Alluka and Kalluto -- rented the Whale House to escape the controversies following the family patriarch. They experienced terrifying unnatural phenomena, culminating in a tragic loss that left their family in ruins. Twelve years later, the Zoldyck siblings reunite as the spotlight turns once more on them following  success and tragedy --- and they’re finally forced to confront what happened in Whale House all those years ago.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	a certain kind of eden

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from A Certain Kind of Eden by Kay Ryan. Inspired by The Haunting of Hill House TV show on Netflix, and the original book by Shirley Jackson. 
> 
> Deviates from the plot of both, however, as is necessary when dealing with this family.

_… You thought you chose_

_the bean and chose the soil._

_You even thought you abandoned_

_one or two gardens. But those things_

_keep growing where we put them --_

_if we put them at all._

_A certain kind of Eden holds us thrall._

_\- A Certain Kind of Eden, Kay Ryan_

**October 1992**

All houses become alive over time -- from the inside, lived in and full of memories, or otherwise, as objects of story and speculation. Inevitably, they all take on a human face. The Whale House, the lone mansion on Whale Island, was not like that at all. As far as anyone in the town could remember, it stood there watching over the island before the town was even declared. Peering over it with sinister indifference, the house inspired the same from townspeople. The sprawling mansion was the last stop before the wild forests of the island, but no one ever sought its refuge. If any ever did, it was before the town was formed, when the island was nothing more than a night port for long-haul fishermen. The house’s history was never the same in any telling and the stories that dogged it were phantasms at best. Anyone that might know anything was long gone. Whatever memory it had, it remembered alone. 

The wings of the house bracketed the driveway, enfolding anyone that might walk up the drive. The massive recessed doorway was a gaping maw in the gloom -- this was the Whale House when the Zoldyck family first arrived. It was an hour or so to midnight when the family reached the house with nothing more than a few haphazardly-packed duffel bags between the seven of them. Their luggage would follow after a few days, packed inside crates of vegetables and generic medicines, to escape scrutiny. The parents, Silva Zoldyck and his wife, Kikyo, with their five children -- Illumi, Milluki, twins Killua and Alluka, and the youngest, Kalluto -- slipped into Whale Island without much fanfare. In fact, it would take a full day before the town noticed the house’s winking lights from a distance, to realize that someone had arrived. Just as easily, that anyone lived there would slip their minds over the coming weeks. They had come to the island with the permission of the house’s owner, Isaac Netero of the infamous Hunter Association, as refugees of a sort. No one was particularly pleased about it, not even the owner, when he found out that the children, too, had to leave. 

Well, there’s nothing to be done about it, thought Kikyo, morose and practical. Her eyes were on the rigid line of Silva’s back; she could picture his face now, brows drawn down, a sneer at the outdated house. Not intimidated at all. Having married into the family, and having a more grounded understanding of how long Zeno Zoldyck’s scandal may last, she understood that she had to maintain an air of apathy. The Zoldyck line was one of the oldest, its connections vast and only outstripped by the family’s collective achievements. And with five children from her --- the most there has ever been in a generation! --- she had secured a part of that great legacy. She affected that prestige now, even though the house raised every repressed instinct in her to turn and run. She had survived the slums of Meteor City, every predator it had thrown at her, on the back of those instincts. For a few seconds it occurred to her, with the certainty of fact, that the house could see through her and that if she walked inside, she would find the worst of Meteor City’s streets, the collapsed tunnels of Lost Lanes opened to the sky. It led to the rich cities, a labyrinth of tunnels and pits where children were never found again. If she stepped inside, she would be back there. Silva would not find her, this time. She chided herself for being weak now -- the exhaustion must be getting to her. She could feel the dull throbbing between her eyes, which made her clutch Silva’s arms more tightly. He barely flinched.

The windows, taller than they were wide, were recessed and gave the impression of a house looming over its owners. The roof jutted out, an unseemly overbite intended to give additional protection against tropical typhoons. Stepping under the eaves was consent to be eaten. Silva, despite his misgivings, was impressed by the house’s stature, the practicality of its design, its obvious unwelcome. It was a house designed with purpose; perhaps, not for children, he thought. Under the windows were wooden ventanillas, a unique feature to tropical houses to cool the house during summer, etched with gamboling animals on one side and checkered capiz on the sliding portion. The dim lights deepened the shadows in the wooden grooves, rendering some animals unrecognisable and others alive with emotion. Behind him, he heard Alluka’s soft intake at the whimsical design. He relaxed at that, despite himself. ‘Surely, it improves in daylight,’ he allowed, and held Kikyo’s hand grasped around his arm as he started moving forward. 

“You will have to carry your own luggage in. I don’t enter the house after dark,” said the boatsman who assisted them from the mainland all the way to the house. If Netero hadn’t provided them with a picture, Silva wouldn’t have believed it, for the man was obviously not a native of the continent, nevermind the island. In fact, Silva wouldn’t be surprised if Kite came from the northern countries, perhaps even from Padokea. He allowed the man his irascible temperament. They were not, after all, in Padokea. 

“As you’ve mentioned several times,” Kikyo responded coolly. 

Kite did not feel the disdain the Zoldycks assumed he felt; he felt, instead, a twinge of pity for them -- whatever misfortune they were trying to escape would hardly be made better by the house. But pity was not enough to force him back, and he sensed that empathy would be even harder to call forth for the parents. “Tomorrow, I will drop by with the house’s caretakers to give you a tour. And see that everything is working as well as it should.”

“A tour? Our servants’ quarters is larger than this,” said the fat, pale child --- Milluki, if he remembered correctly --- testily. Kite was too inured to childish impertinence to be much offended. The children had sailed quietly and in the cold for three hours, after all. Illumi, the eldest, huffed sharply, amused.

“I would prefer a tour tonight, if that’s no trouble,” he said, challenging. At sixteen, Illumi was already favoring his mother’s build and coloring --- willowy and pale. He would fit in this house, Kite thought uncharitably.

“I do not enter the house at night. You will find that the doors to the usable rooms have been left open. On the second floor, you will find a master bedroom, three bedrooms with single beds, and a room with two twin beds. Three bathrooms, two shared. Everything else, we can discuss tomorrow. I will return at dawn.” Kite said in a clipped tone. The family seemed startled by the sudden change. Milluki stepped back.

“All houses have their own secrets, young master,” he added dryly, to soothe the children. Silva twitched at that, the expression unique to Padokea’s culture. That confirms it, he thought. Kite looked straight at him knowingly. “And I would appreciate leaving the exploration to daytime. It would be safer that way.”

“Lastly, no matter what you hear, do not leave the house at night. The garden behind the house opens to the forest, but the wild animals know to steer clear of the house. I will see you tomorrow,” he warned.

Kite set off down the path back to the town, leaving the Zoldycks staring at the Whale House. Although no one said a word, each member entered the house with the foreboding sense that it was looking back, from its windows where even the full moon’s light barely penetrated the darkness within. It had been waiting for a long time. 

**February 2004**

“Look, it’s your fucking fault that we’re doing this anyway,” Killua barked at Milluki on the other end of the line. “I’m still waiting to board my flight, yes, it’s late, I know, I’m fucking here, aren’t I?”

Other passengers of the red-eye flight to Padokea gave Killua a wide-berth. Killua winced at the attention he was getting and lowered his voice. “Milluki, I won’t make it on time and that will only spike her anxiety,” he said, desperately now. 

On the other end, Milluki let out a low hiss, “Fuck, fuck. Kallu won’t be coming until later tonight. Fuck you, I’m not getting stuck there with both Alluka and Illumi, are you insane?” The line went dead and Killua winced. Privately, he understood Milluki’s reservation. He wouldn’t want to be stuck with Illumi and Alluka either; he had spent enough of his childhood serving as referee for whenever they clashed --- Illumi too controlling as the eldest, Alluka too stubborn to bend and too straightforward to negotiate. Still, someone needed to be there to pick Alluka up. 

Killua settled before his gate. His messenger blipped with a message from Milluki, conciliatory if still pissed. It’s not like he has anyway of navigating the blow-out without me, Killua thought savagely. 

_remind alluka 2 meet @ lobby. kallu 2 meet us b4._

Killua snorted fondly; of course, Kalluto caved. 

_ur a coward. c u @ the gas station b4 illu’s._

Closing the app, he gave Alluka a call and got her voicemail. “Hey blanket, my flight’s running late. Milluki’s pickin’ you up and Kallu will meet you halfway, ok? I’ll meet you guys beforehand, we’ll head in together,” Killua paused before deciding to go in; she was going to be pissed, anyway. “Don’t be too hard on Millu. Of course you were right but we’re all just figurin’ it out right?”

Wasn’t that the truth, though?, Killua thought as he ended the call. He couldn’t even blame Milluki for turning their childhood nightmare into what may become a gaming empire. Already, they had backers for two other games: an RPG for mobile and another for virtual reality. While Killua and Kalluto gave their begrudging blessing to proceed with the game, Illumi and Alluka, in a rare moment of solidarity, refused to give theirs. Now, someone in the media knows who made the Haunting of Wail Island; soon enough, they were going to put the details together. About that night, about their family, who exactly they were paying to bring them entertainment. The story, as far as Milluki knew, was going live in two days, maybe less. Killua doubted it would deter gamers. Hell, with that backstory, the sales were probably going to skyrocket. 

They had a day, at most, to come up with a family statement. Or to hide in a bunker. After all, they weren’t children anymore and the law had no reason to protect them. Neither did the government. Whatever power or hold they had no longer existed --- it could get worse, easily. The protection granted by the Hunter Association was no longer in effect the moment Kalluto turned eighteen. Whatever information they could find now, if any, would no longer be covered up. 

Killua started breathing heavily into his cupped palms, anxiety prickling up and down his spine. He made a call and spoke as soon as the line was picked up. “Kurapika, talk me down again.”

On the other end, a heavy sigh. “There’s nothing you can be held accountable for, Killua. Not from that night or your family. You’re helping a lot of people and they will vouch for you and stand by you. Palm’s press statement is ready on behalf of the firm. I will not accept your resignation.” In the background, Killua heard a soft curse then the sound of the phone passing hands.

“Don’t hang up. Killua, look, you’ve made it this far. No matter what people say about the past, you know and we do that you’re not there anymore. Fuck all that noise. Don’t let your psycho brother tell you otherwise,” Leorio Paladinkight said, Kurapika humming in agreement in the background. “Also, demand higher royalties af ---”

Killua laughed at that, despite himself, as he heard Kurapika wrestle the phone from Leorio. “That’s --- it’s not wrong but it’s certainly not the time, we can talk about negotiation when you get back. Just … focus on the good you’ve done, ok? And if things go wrong, I have contingencies in place --- we can take your siblings in too, if necessary.”

Killua breathed heavily and almost missed the announcement. Over the speakers, his flight number was being announced. He could feel the burn of tears and he was careful to blink them away. He had no doubt Leorio and Kurapika knew. “Yeah, god, yeah, I know. Okay. I’ll call when I land, and probably after everything falls apart, heh. I’ll try and get home as soon as I can. I’ll steal Milluki’s watch if I can, bye.”

“No! Th ---,” Killua put the phone down and picked up his duffel bag. It was light and mostly contained thick woven scarves, recycled notebooks, other tourist gifts from the Yorbian continent for Kalluto and Alluka. A peace offering or a gift or proof --- he’ll know when they receive it. He sent a single message to Kalluto, placed his phone on airplane mode and got ready to board. 

_omw. c u 4hr._

It was 9:00 pm in Yorknew International Airport. 

\---

On Whale Island, the town drunks had caused enough ruckus that a small crowd had gathered at the town fountain. The fountain had a sundial mounted on its center, a relic from the time the renowned Freecs family founded the town. The mayor had kept the first line of sunlight from behind the mountain clear of buildings; in mornings, it was a sight to behold. Standing from the town center, you could see the sun rise in the morning. You can also see clearly the Whale House at its base, as unnatural and timeless as myth. 

At 2:45 am, the screams of old Mondin, who slept on the fountain lip under the stars, drew the drunks from the only open tavern in town. Running to the town center, they watched horrified as the Whale House’s windows blinked open, flickering first then increasingly bright. “Call Mito!” they said. 

By the time Mito, the tavern owner, arrived at the square, there was only one light left, in the tower made to mimic a lighthouse on the east wing. They watched the light dim at 3:03 am, although they didn’t know it then. No one wanted to check the mansion before dawn and no one could explain how a house so long left in neglect could have the power to light up at all, if the old bulbs still worked, if the mayor had authorized power to be coursed down that way once more. Who would even request it?

Until dawn, everyone speculated on the source of the power fluctuation, but no one said the questions on everyone’s mind: is there a person behind this? Who would walk the halls of Whale House at night? How could any stranger --- for surely it had to be a stranger --- not stand out from their memory? Everyone passed by the port but no one could remember anyone new arriving. Aside from borrowing a mobile to make a call to the mainland, Mito said nothing at all, except to wait for Kite.

At few hours past dawn, to the surprise of the town, Kite returned with the body of Alluka Zoldyck. It was not that no one remembered her arriving. It was that, as far as the older ones in the town could remember, the Zoldycks only had four children, all male. They never met that one at all. 


End file.
